Iqra Munawar
“Kitaabain baatain karti hain, hamara jee behlany ki, Kabhi aglay zamany ki, kabhi pichlay zamany ki.”
This famous rhyme from The Uncle Sargam Show still echoes in my memory. My teacher would sing it to encourage us to read, nurturing a habit that often led us to old bookshops. For me, it was a small library filled with dusty shelves and timeless stories—a space where my love for reading first bloomed.
Old bookshops are quiet keepers of memory, holding the beautiful scent of paper, rows of affordable books and the joy of exchanging old treasures for new discoveries. They preserve history, fiction, romance, geography and worlds waiting for readers to explore. As Oliver Goldsmith said, he loved “everything that is old”—friends, manners, wines and books. I would add bookshops to that list.
Yet, across Pakistan, these literary havens are disappearing. Islamabad alone has lost around 15 old bookshops in the last decade, while major cities like Karachi, Lahore and Peshawar have seen nearly 70 closures, including famous names like Saeed Book Bank and London Book Company. Rising rents, inflation and shifting interests are partly to blame, but our education system bears a heavy responsibility. Schools and universities often restrict students to course materials, emphasizing grades over curiosity, discouraging reading beyond the syllabus.
The result is stark: a Gallup & Gilani Pakistan survey reveals that three in four Pakistanis do not read any kind of book, with only 25% engaging in reading beyond their coursework. Students, especially, are losing touch with literature. Instead of investing Rs. 500 in a book, they prefer temporary pleasures like food or entertainment. Generation Z’s declining interest in books raises a pressing question: if today’s youth ignore literature, who will carry it forward? Knowledge remains the foundation of a developed nation and without a culture of reading, progress is at risk.
Old bookshops once thrived alongside media efforts that nurtured young minds. Programs like Uncle Sargam, Ainak Wala Jin, Alif Laila and Taleem-e-Balighan combined entertainment with subtle lessons in learning, imagination and curiosity.
Morning shows and cultural segments celebrated authors, poets and book fairs, cultivating an environment where reading was valued. That era has largely faded, replaced by viral trends, celebrity gossip and reality shows offering distraction but little substance. Even with technology making reading more accessible through e-books and PDFs, the tactile charm of old bookstores—the smell of paper, the thrill of discovery, the quiet joy of turning pages—remains irreplaceable.
Reviving old bookshops requires collective effort. Schools, media, society and government must collaborate to reintegrate books into everyday life. These spaces are more than stores; they are cultural heritage, silent storytellers of who we were as a reading nation. Because a nation that forgets to read forgets to think and a nation that forgets to think forgets to grow.
—The author is a Media Officer at the Pakistan Institute of Development Economics (PIDE).
